“Alf is loaning us his vehicle.”
He climbed into the truck and waited.
After a few minutes, she walked into the gas station, returned, then climbed into the passenger seat.
Green shot her a questioning look.
“I needed to thank him.”
“Oh? That was nice. Why?”
“Because the point of manners is to remind us to align our behavior with our values even when we don’t feel like it. Now drive.”
He did.
Alf’s truck was old and well maintained. It ran rough, but felt solid.
Valentina, with crossed arms and threatening blankness, guided Green to Kinkaid Cabins, a small camp in the foothills south of Candle-Fly. Most of her guiding involved barking out cardinal directions and working to contain her annoyance when Green’s internal compass failed and he had to ask, “Right or left?”
It was late afternoon when they arrived. The shadows had all bled together beneath the looming western mountains. Green spotted a sheriff’s cruiser blocking a narrow drive leading off into the woods next to a large, colorful sign for Kinkaid Cabins.
“That’s it,” Valentina said. “Drive past.”
The cruiser was empty. Green drove on, slowing the truck around the next curve.
“Okay, now what?”
“We find a place to park on the shoulder out of view of the entrance.”
Her businesslike neutrality was back. It was worse than her anger. It brought to mind the seriousness of the day’s work.
“There. Park there.”
Green pulled the truck off onto the wide gravel berm.
They climbed out and Green felt a pang of guilt about leaving Alf’s truck on a roadside while they were probably committing a crime.
This is literally a matter of life and death. He’d understand.
Valentina leapt up the steep ten-foot embankment like a mountain goat and disappeared onto the flatter ground above.
Green did not leap up like any kind of goat. He scrabbled up on all fours, sliding two feet for every four he gained. He arrived at the top with muddy hands and knees, smelling like humus and leaf rot.
Valentina was twenty feet ahead kneeling over her backpack. He joined her, breathing hard.
“Hey, Teacher, what do we do when we do encounter the police?”
“I am preparing for that now.”
Valentina pulled a soiled tan pillowcase from her bag and held it up. Something the size of a softball swung within. The bulge struggled and then went still.
“What is that?”
She shouldered her backpack and carried the pillowcase at her side.
“Come. We can walk and discuss this. We’re losing the light.”
Green saw something in the pillowcase kick off of Valentina’s leg as she walked.
